


Rage and Tears

by willskissograham (awillsgrahamcracker)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anger, Crying, Crying Frederick, Domestic Violence, Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Feelings, M/M, maybe frederick is in the wrong line of work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awillsgrahamcracker/pseuds/willskissograham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has a near death experience and Frederick doesn't know how to handle it. The man Will once laughed at while holding a gun disappears and a man set on destroying every piece of dinnerware in the house emerges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rage and Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't sue me.
> 
> Another idea from one of the many awesome Anons [Becky](http://drwillton.tumblr.com/) receives on a daily over on Tumblr.

You had driven in the snow a thousand times past. It was almost second nature. Living in Wolf Trap, Virginia you either learn to drive in the snow or you starve. It just comes with the territory. So, when you hit the patch of black ice on the road your reflexes take over, letting off the gas and steering into it. You don't remember much after letting your foot off the gas and now standing outside the car you're glad you didn't.

Looking at the damage your hands tremble and your heart pounds in your chest. You collided with a tree wrapping the little hatchback around it. All that was left was the outline of where you had been sitting in the car. You look down at the small trail of blood on your arm. Saved by the row bars. Only a scratch to be shown. Looking over at Frederick you were grateful for the concerned citizen that let you use their phone. Grateful because he was here with you now. And Grateful because you had survived to see him again.

As his gaze meets yours you notice something you hadn't before. His green eyes almost darken to black and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. 

“Let's go, Will.” His voice was rough, harsh, and jagged. Anger didn't suit him.

The ride home is torture. All you want to do is tell him how relieved you are. How happy you are to still be breathing. You want him to understand that he is who you would miss the most. Well and the dogs. That thought makes you laugh knowing it would have normally made him laugh too. You know by the look he shoots you that laughing probably isn't the best idea right now. You have never seen him like this before. This wasn't who he was. Was it?

Even during his “exclusive” care you couldn't remember him ever being hateful. Manipulative and vengeful sure but you never felt intimidated by him. You weren't even intimidated when he was holding a gun in your face. Yet right now all you wanted to do was run as far away from him as you could and he had barely said anything.

Even thinking about his manipulation and vengeance you know it's all for the attention. You often wondered what had happened to him to make him crave acceptance so much. Why it was that made him think he wasn't good enough. He always tried to appear so strong and in control but you knew better as did pretty much everyone else. Right now, however, Frederick looked like what he always pretended Dr. Chilton was.

When he pulls the car into the driveway of the little house you sigh a sigh of relief. Now you can sit on the porch with the dogs while he calms down. What he had to calm down about you weren't exactly sure but you weren't about to ask him. You open the door and walk in the house. A house that once use to be just yours but now it was both of yours. Frederick had come over one night and never left. He was another stray you had collected and he was about to turn on his owner.

Inside you can't help but watch him. Buster is trying for his attention and Frederick doesn't even pay him any attention. His gaze is through him, fixed in the distance, as if something is calling out for him. 

“You could have died.” The statement is barely a whisper.

You smile and take a step into him. “But I didn't”

“You could have died!” His voice was louder, stronger.

You take two steps back. “Frederick, I'm fine. Only a scratch.” 

You hold up your arm to show him. He bats it away.

“What would I have done without you? The house, the dogs” He is yelling now. “You tell me what I would do, William!”

He kicks the chair in front of him sending the dogs running from the room. You want to follow them. You want to run away with them as far away as you can go. You start to make your break for it when he grabs you by the arm.

“I'm not done!” He growls holding onto your arm.

You look down at where his hand is fixed around your bicep. “Frederick, what the hell?” You try to be strong but your voice is shaky and you tone is weak.

“We have a family here! I couldn't make it without you. There wouldn't be a point!”

In different circumstances the sentiment would have been enduring albeit a little depressing. 

“Calm down, Freddy, and lets talk about this.”

“DO NOT FREDDY ME!” You half expected him to add “young man” at the end.

A cup hits the wall and you flinch like an abused puppy. A plate soon follows and your hands immediately run to your ears. The noise echos through the house and you wonder what the hell is happening. Why are you having trouble standing up to him? You had walked in front of a gun he once held on you and laughed. Now as he throws plates and cups around the kitchen you stand frozen, hands covering your ears, heart pounding in your chest. 

Its not like you did it on purpose. You were scared enough after it happened. He was supposed to be comforting you. Oh how you wished he was comforting you in only the way Frederick can – glasses of wine, a massage or two, and then something he tries really hard at like cooking but fails miserably, only making you want him more. Where had that man gone? 

You try again to confront him but when you open your mouth no words come. Only the sound that can be best described as mouse like. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you would wake up any minute now. Maybe this was just another nightmare.

Now there is nothing left on the counters. Anything that wasn't bolted down, and some things that were, had met their demise, the walls and floor claiming their victims. You know you have to get out of here. You wait until he seems preoccupied with finding his next victim and take off for the door. As you go to grab the handle a loud thud grabs your attention. You turn slowly around to see him sitting in the middle of the kitchen surrounded by his chaos. His face is in his hands and the tears are coming so fast he is battling for air. He looks up at you and in his eyes you see it. Shame. You still try to walk away but your feet won't move any further.

“I've never” He gasps for a breath. “I've never been happier” Another gasp. “Than I am with you.”

He looks away the sobbing continuing. You know you should do something either leave or otherwise but you remain in place, frozen, still too scared to move. 

“Every day I live in fear of losing this, you, us. I just couldn't” He tries to compose himself. “I just couldn't live alone again after living with you.”

Your gaze meets his and he holds it. Now he is the wounded puppy betrayed by his feelings. You offer a soft smile and you slowly move towards him. You kneel gently next to him.

“Frederick, you scared me.”

The tears return, streaming down his nose, and onto his lap. “I know I just.” He sighs. “I am such an idiot.”

You sit down next to him taking his hand in yours. “No your not. I wouldn't want to live without me either.”

You both laugh. 

“Come here.” You pull him into your chest and kiss the top of his head. “You know, Frederick, for a psychiatrist you sure are shit at dealing with your own feelings.”


End file.
